


Controllable Fate

by aqualewdity



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ghosts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-04 23:13:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4156584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aqualewdity/pseuds/aqualewdity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott finally realizes his feelings for Stiles when it's too late.  Stiles is dead.  He's never coming back and Scott has to accept that.  So when Scott starts seeing Stiles' ghost, he has to figure out whether it's just his grief talking, or something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You're Definitely Not Jesus

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been stirring in my head for a while so I hope it comes out as well as I planned.

The funeral was a blur.  Scott couldn't tell if it was actually raining or if he was just remembering.  There was a schism between today and two days ago, between his best friend in a coffin and in his arms for the last time.  Stiles wasn't supposed to die.  No one around him was supposed to die but Stiles was different.  He was supposed to be untouchable.

 

It was as if his right eye was seeing the people all dressed in black around him.  The priest spewing out scriptures Stiles never even believed in and talking about how great this guy he never met was.  There wasn't even a face to put the words to.  The coffin was closed. It was honey brown, sleek and shiny with metal attachments.  It was pretty and perfect and the complete opposite of the boy inside.  Maybe that's why the schism existed.

 

Scott's left eye was still seeing the rain.  The rain and the forest and the darkness.  Scott could still smell the evil dripping blood and sweat.  He could still see the axe being thrown at him as a last resort before the enemy hit the ground.  He feel the hold Stiles suddenly had around him and the breath he let out as the weapon his back.  Then, there were cries, and tears and "I love you, please no."  

"I know."

 

"No you don't.  Stiles, I'm in love with you, you can't do this."

"Scott trust me.  I know. I'm in love with you too.

 

More tears and screams, howls rather and Lydia screaming, and Liam.  Oh crap, Liam.

 

Scott blinked a few times and both eyes were finally fixed on the task at hand.  The casket was descending, the Sheriff was keeping it together but Liam?  Liam was trembling.  He was straining to keep his mouth closed to stop from screaming, but that only made people see his pain more clearer.  The emotions in him smacking against the surface and couldn't take much more.  The smell of sadness and fear had jolted Scott out of his trance just long enough to put his arm around Liam and hold him as tight as he possibly could.  Scott wanted to take his friend inward and allow all the emotions to spill out on his suit jacket.  But he knew Liam had to watch this; they both did.  Stiles wasn't coming back.  The dirt falling over Stiles' wooden box solidified that fact in a way that Scott alone could never do.

 

x~X~X~X

 

"Mom?"

 

"Hm?"

 

"You're hovering."

 

Melissa looked around, like she was just noticing she was in her son's door frame.  Or maybe she was noticing that it had been about fifteen minutes.  She had started to tell Scott about how she had taken the night off and picked up a menu from the newest Indian restaurant, and then it changed to wrongly timed affirmations of her love.  Scott wasn't upset with her.  He just needed time to decide whether he should stop thinking or overthink.

 

 

Out of her rant, Scott's mom seemed to get the hint.  She nodded a good six times, maybe ten since Scott checked his phone a couple times, and agreed she'd leave the food in the kitchen for him.  He did feel like he disappointed her a bit.  She took time away from work and all he wanted to do was lock the everyone out of his room.  But he could hear her breathing, even as both of their doors were closed.  It was nice to feel like someone was at least in the area around him.

 

Scott checked his phone a few more times for nothing in particular.  He turned it on and off, adjusted the brightness and volume even though music seemed like a terrible idea.  He felt stuck.  Nothing could be done that would turn his brain off.  His entire room was like a cacophony of Scott and Stiles moments.  There were shirts borrowed so many times over he couldn't remember the original owner.  There were video games he could no longer return and books he felt could probably never read again.  He even noticed a friendship bracelet Stiles reluctantly gave him when he went to sleep away camp after the fourth grade.  He thought friendship bracelets were for girls but if he had to make one, he only had one friend to give it to.  Scott really couldn't think about  anything else.  So he decided to drown in it.

 

He turned his phone again and went into the photo section.  One by one he went back through pictures he had taken.  There was a shirtless pic he was too embarrassed to post to any type of social media.  Then a candid photo of his mom.  There was one of Kira and her parents while she held a sign that said "Back Soon" and the translation in Japanese characters.  Then there was one of him and Liam, sticking out their tongues at the camera.  Scott smirked at that one.

 

Then he came to a set of pictures he had never seen before.  They had a strategy meeting at Derek's one day, a meeting that required only werewolves and so Stiles had to stay in the car.  Scott must've left his phone in his seat and from the looks of things, he had left it for a long while.

 

Stiles with his eyes' crossed.  Stiles sticking his tongue out.  Stiles finding a bag of chocolate in the back seat.  Stiles eating the chocolate.  Every picture seemed to activate another tear. They were sad and happy tears and Scott didn't have the energy to decipher which emotion he'd settle with.  All he could do was swipe his thumb to left on the screen.

 

Then he got to the picture of Stiles mooning the camera, and one emotion finally took over.  Scott started laughing uncontrollably.  Stiles must have been really bored, though he was never shy about taking off his clothes.  That's part of the reason Scott loved him.  There was the confidence Stiles had that may have just been a facade, but it was so bold and bright that it worked for him.  And Stiles' bright and bold bare ass was somehow funnier when reminded of all that came with it.

 

"Fucking idiot," Scott whispered, a smile plastered across his face.

 

"Hey, I think it's a pretty decent angle."

 

Scott froze.  For a second he couldn't dare move his eyes, let alone his limbs.  There was a voice,  _his voice,_ somehow sticking out in the middle of the room like a snowflake in the middle of summer.  Scott felt like he wanted to unravel but he knew he couldn't.  Not at least until he willed himself to look around.

 

So he did, and he saw Stiles.  Brown haired, thin framed, pale skinned Stiles, Stiles was looking right at him.

 

Scott jumped back off his bed and hit a couple things off his deck. He could see Stiles worried expression but that didn't make it better.  He could  _see_ Stiles' expression.  He wasn't supposed to see anything!

 

Scott couldn't grip the wall tight enough.  "You're....you're,"  he stammered.

 

"Alive?  Uh no, not that I can figure.  I'm pretty sure I'm still dead dude."

 

"St-Stiles?  This doesn't make any sense.  How?"

 

"Scott please, stop freaking out, ok?  I don't have a lot of time."

 

Scott tried to listen to his friend.  But even that notion sounded crazy.  He's not supposed to be listening to his best friend.  He was supposed to be grieving his best friend, mourning him until he could finally move on but still holding on to the piece of Stiles he would always need.  Scott couldn't help but be just a little upset that Stiles wasn't sticking to the damn plan.

 

"I saw you.  I saw you die.  I felt it and you-"

 

"Yes I know.  I was kinda there.  Feelin the whole mortum thing slip away.  I'm still pretty dead, I promise."

 

Scott squinted and blinked, but that same tiny frame was still standing in the middle of his bedroom.  He couldn't shake this one, figuratively or otherwise.

 

"You said you don't have time.  Time for what?"

 

"I have to do something."

 

"What?  Besides scare the hell out of me."

 

"I...don't know."  Stiles looked flushed.  Or as flushed as ghosts could look.  Scott still kept trying to blink it away, he could barely get the tense of his sentences correct when talking about Stiles.  Now he was literally talking to  him.

 

"Look Scott," Stiles continued.  "All I know is that I was sent here to do something for you and not a lot of time to do it."

 

"Stiles you're  _dead._ You shouldn't need to do anything!"

 

"You don't know that.  Jesus did stuff after death.  Wait...maybe I'm Jesus."

 

"You're definitely not Jesus," Scott said with a laugh.  Then he noticed how different his laugh sounded. There was an innocence in it, a purity that only laughing at Stiles' jokes could produce.  It was like a marker.  This was definitely Stiles.  Even still, Scott's smile had to fade.  Most supernatural events didn't exactly come with a laugh track.

 

"Stiles, why are you here?  I mean, here with me.  What am I supposed to do?"

 

"Help?  Scott you always help,"  Stiles said.  His voice sounded so soft and sincere.  Scott melted.  He missed what he and Stiles and all they could've had.

 

"Scott, maybe if I'm with you, I'll remember.  Or you'll show me what I should do.  I don't know, ok?  All I know is I know in my gut, my incorporeal gut, that we need to do this together."

 

"I wish I could hold your hand,"  Scott blurted out.  He blushed.  It was a reflex; they were words he was supposed to say at a tombstone or in the dark with no one around.  He didn't mean to say it to the person.  A couple of hours ago he didn't think he could.  But all Stiles did was smile.

 

"I know.  But maybe we can fix that."

 

Scott's door swung open.  Both boys turned to it but Scott's mom was clearly looking straight at Scott, and straight through Stiles.

 

"Honey, were you talking on the phone or just to yourself?"

 

Stiles looked back to Scott.  and tried to smile again, though this one wasn't so successful.  

 

"Ok so maybe not."


	2. Damn you, Patrick Swayze

Werewolf strength and stamina were supposed to be used to do battle.  Scott had spent a lot of time honing his skills and controlling his abilities so that he wouldn't get caught but also so he wouldn't cheat at life.  Lacrosse games had to be fair.  He ran in gym at a reasonable pace and tried to pretend to be as out of breath as the rest of the students.  And even though he didn't really need it, Scott tried to go to sleep at an appropriate hour, if only to give himself and his mother a sliver of normalcy.

 

But this wasn't normal.  Stiles, phasing through desk chairs as he paced and struggling to remember his after death experiences wasn't normal.  It didn't even seem supernatural.  For Scott, it was a whole other level of odd and out of place, so he felt it needed his full attention.

 

His mother had already told the high school he was taking a couple days off to deal with a death in the family, so he decided to take full advantage of that.  He left his room for food, to see if his mother was home and to make sure she knew he was ok. He said goodnight to her and didn't sleep, turned off the lights and snored outwardly when he heard her walking by the door, all to keep things normal.  But it was hard to pretend to be grieving when the rest of his time was spent with Stiles.  They talked about everything like they were living their childhood all over again.  Every time Scott switched topics it was "Remember when" or "We were six the day" and so on.  It was all about the past, partially so the Scott could be convinced he was really talking to his best friend's ghost, but mostly to not talk about the present or the future.  Ok, so maybe they didn't talk about everything.  

 

Scott sat as far away from Stiles as possible.  He had seen Ghost with his mom a few times and wondered if Stiles could learn how to practice being whole.  But the simple idea that getting to close and going through him was enough to not mention it.  It took Patrick Swayze a few tries to get it right and he didn't want anything to spoil the past 72 hours.  Though, inside, Scott knew he didn't have much time until something did.

 

"Remember anything yet?" Scott reluctantly asked.

 

"Nope.  And we've been trying so hard."  Scott could sense the sarcasm dripping off of Stiles' words.  But he also knew that didn't mean Stiles wasn't enjoying himself.

 

"Maybe we need to go out somewhere?"  

 

"Go where, Stiles?  To the nearest graveyard?"

 

"To Deaton or Derek or-"

 

"No."  Scott new his answer came faster and harder than he wanted it to.  He had to come to grips with the outside world at some point, but he didn't know how this thing worked.  He didn't know if the outside world came with Stiles.  And from the look on Stiles' face, he didn't either.  So the air started to feel thicker than usual as the two boys just stared at each other.

 

"You have really beautiful eyes," Stiles started.  It made Scott blush and roll his eyes.

 

"Shut up,"  Scott laughed.

 

"I'm serious.  Let me be, ya know, honest and junk for a little.  Being dead kinda puts things in perspective."

 

"And what perspective is that?"

 

"The one that shows you how honest you need to be in the moment. Rather than let time slip away."  Stiles spoke much more seriously than when he started.  That only made Scott listen more.  "It's the perspective where I see your stupid brown eyes and remember how much I wanted to call them beautiful and never did.  And how much I wanted to kiss you and never did.  I love you Scott.  I didn't say that enough."

 

Saying the words I love you should have been a much more joyous occasion, but they hit Scott like a ton of bricks.  He was in the present, with Stiles, but everything still was being spoken in past tense.  It didn't feel right, even though it was correct.  Scott didn't want it to be.

 

Another thick silence was broken by a knock at the door.  Scott looked over at the clock and realized it was 5:30.  Everyone should have been off saving the world or saving their grades.  He wasn't expecting nor did he want company but he knew breaking the seal on the front door was probably a good baby step.

 

He opened the door to Liam.  His eyes were red, like he had been crying but long enough ago that he was doing his best to hide it.  He had two chocolate bars in his hand, milk chocolate with a black and red wrapper.  They were Scott's favorite.  He wanted to roll his eyes at the sweetness of the gesture but he didn't.  For Liam's sake.

 

"I um, I'm not good at this stuff.  Anger I can do.  Or I guess I don't do it all that well.  But you helped.  And Stiles...he helped too.  And when you get sad or something goes wrong Stiles would download a movie and order food and you guys would talk and eat and laugh and deal.  And I'm not him and I haven't found a part time job yet so I can't buy a lot of food but I got these.  And well..."

 

Liam's rant was stopped by a hug.  Scott could feel Liam's heartbeat rise at the sudden contact and then slowly become at ease.  Liam had really been centering Scott for a while.  In the pain of Stiles'  absence, he had almost forgot that.  It was good to get a reminder.

 

Scott led Liam inside, hoping that some time spent with his friend would align his thoughts once again.  Liam wasn't the smartest guy, but he was pure in his intentions and that made it easier to focus.  Scott couldn't live in dream world forever, even if it was dreaming with someone he loved.

 

Liam paused, and turned to close the door, stepping right through Stiles' entire body.  He didn't even notice Stiles was there; it was simply air for him.  It was much more for Scott.

 

_Damn you, Patrick Swayze,_ he thought.   _You really gave me false expectations of ghosts._

 

Scott looked, at Stiles, wondering if it was as jarring for him to be walked through.  From the look on his face it seemed like he was weirded out even more.  But then he spoke.

 

"It's him.  Scott, whatever I came here to do, it's about Liam."

 

 


	3. I Think That Means Yes

Danger. It had to be danger. That's all it ever was. No one told the future or spoke about a person in town without their being some type of dire consequence lurking just in the distance. Beacon Hills was appropriately named and the town used its gravitational pull to bring in the worst of the worst and hunt down the people Scott cared about. Liam was in danger but neither Scott nor Stiles new how to stop it.

Scott had to force himself to go to school, even though events of the night before didn't exactly leave him excited to see even more people. Liam came over and watched movies but Scott could barely watch anything. He stuck close to Liam, mentally and physically, while Stiles skulked in the background. It was the first time Scott truly noticed that Stiles never sat down and the first time he noticed how difficult it was having a person in the room only he could talk to. Stiles would speak and either Scott would answer him and look like he's talking to air, talk to air in the tenth bathroom break within two two-hour movies, or just simply ignore every word.

"What do you think it is?" Stiles asked. Scott ignored him so he kept going.

"It could be something bad. Aw dammit it probably is something bad. It's always bad with us."

"Stiles!" Scott's words jolted Liam. "I just, I remembered, ya know," Scott said trying to cover it up.

Liam nodded, but he looked sadder. Like he had lost a friend too but there was something else. Liam looked defeated and that only made Scott feel like more of an idiot.

"But hey, I'm really glad you're here," Scott said sincerely. Liam smiled at that which made Scott smile. He looked over at Stiles, standing in the shadows of the room, and he was smiling too.

Now smiles were replaced with the purest anxiety. Scott couldn't handle juggling schoolwork, talking and not talking to Stiles while he followed him around and following Liam around, trying to protect him while Stiles figured out what kinda supernatural warning he was planning on giving. It was too much. It was too much times three. And yet he stepped inside of his high school.

He got the usually solemn looks and teachers' condolences. Some of them were heartfelt and some teachers hated Stiles, so it was for Scott not to laugh as his invisible friend got upset over these terrible fronts.

Whenever he wasn't in class and writing on his notebook words that only Stiles could see, he was finding Liam in the hallway. He met up with him between every period, tracking his scent through the crowd of bodies at every bell ring. The first couple times were fine. Then, even Liam noticed something was weird.

"Scott what's going on," he asked bluntly, a little unusual for him. He was never blunt unless he was pissed off. But this was something else. Something like concern.

"Nothing."

"Scott you've been following me around all day. What's up? Do you think I'll hulk out or something?"

"Maybe we should," Stiles started.

"No," Scott said, answering them both. He couldn't tell Liam he was seeing dead Stiles and Liam might be in danger. It was too much, it wsn't concrete enough. There wasn't even enough evidence to prove that Scott wasn't just hallucinating. He was drowning in whatever this was, but he still had enough will power left to understand that drowning was a bad thing and no one should have to accompany him.

He stared at Liam. The look of confusion on his face was so sincere and real. He was worried for him but also for Scott. For a moment, Scott saw the way his mom looked at him. How Allison did when he was keeping secrets from her. How people look at other people when they...

"Scott?" Liam and Stiles spoke at once. Scott's trance had to be really intense. "I gotta get to class but I'll see you at lunch ok? We'll talk then," Scott nodded as he watched Liam walk away. There was no shadow lurking over him, no eerie student with an odd scent going his way. Liam was fine. And that made Scott even more afraid.

"What if we're wrong?" Scott used the business of the hallway to mask his conversation.

"We aren't," Stiles said. "I'm not. I just need a little more time. It's only been a few days."

"And how long do I have to wait? How long are you gonna be standing over me while I sleep or covering your eyes when I pee?"

"Do you want me to go?"

Scott felt punched in the heart. He never wanted Stiles to leave in the first place but now Stiles' words felt like a loaded question. Before, Scott knew he should've said something. All the times they were on stakeouts or sleeping over at each other's houses, Scott would stare at Stiles. He'd look into his eyes when he knew Stiles needed someone to be there for him. He'd stare at his hair when they slept in the same room and Scott wound up being restless. He'd notice every folicle and it's direction. And he would stare at Stiles' mouth at times when all he wanted to do was close the distance between them. He should've spoken up. There were so many times he hadn't.

But now the feelings were out in the open. The boy who lived got to speak about his love to the boy who died. And though it was reciprocated, there was still this detachment. Scott couldn't hold Stiles' hand. They couldn't have dates or show each other off or have dinner with their parents. They couldn't be any closer anymore. Stiles was present and around Scott, but without everything, the idea of them together started to feel stale, even if that was the only idea Scott ever wanted.

Scott skipped his next period, wandering the halls with his ghost companion. He had answered Stiles' question with an "of course not" and a deep sigh, which might not have been the most convincing. But it got Stiles off his back.

Turning a corner, Scott spotted Lydia at her locker. He had forgotten in his haze that she had a free period right before their lunch. He walked over, with the simple intent of hearing her voice. Lydia was the greatest at pulling out confidence, even when your entire being screams fear.

But his dreams disappeared when he heard and saw her slam herself against the lockers and scream. She stared at Scott. No, not at him, passed him.

"What the fuck?!"

"Can...she see me?"

"Stiles what are you doing?"

"I think that means yes," Scott said. It was a bittersweet reveal. He was keeping Stiles all to himself and that was nice. But at least with someone else seeing him it meant Scott wasn't crazy.

"Lydia, it's me," Stiles tried to explain.

"I can see that! This isn't making any sense. Scott what did you do?"

Scott felt that jab maybe a little too hard. "I didn't do anything," he said.

"Well he can't just be...back," Lydia whispered. Stiles made some irritating remark about being in the room even though he wasn't   _really in the room._ They both told him to shut up.

 

"Scott you had to have done something.  Only you can see him.  He's here because of you."

 

:"Yeah, to help me.  And Liam.  Something is wrong with him."

 

"That's not how that works Scott."  Lydia went further into how hauntings only belong to the person being haunted.  And that Scott and Stiles weren't letting go of something.  Scott wasn't letting go of something.

 

"That's not," Scott started, but he didn't have the confidence to finish it.

  
"Fact is McCall, Stiles, this Stiles, is only here because you need to fix something that's broken,"

 

Scott new that he was being defended by a ghost of his former best friend.  He knew that Lydia had points and, her being death's calling card, had probably done her research.  But the voices started to tune out.  All that was left was broken.

 

Scott was broken.  He broke something.  And that wasn't allowing him to move on.  It was giving Stiles the chance to move on.  The idea that Stiles came back due to some divine intervention and save them sounded like a chance to fall in love with Stiles again for the last time.  But the idea that Scott was keeping Stiles here, stopping him from letting go of the world and going off to wherever he needed to go to, that was heartbreaking.  Scott wanted it all to stop.  He kept mouthing the word until the mouthing became whispers and the whispers became screams over the arguing.

 

"Stop!!!"

 

Within an instant, Liam had appeared by Lydia's side, staring at Scott.  Scott noticed then that his eyes were red.  He was going too far, in his head and out.  And the look on Liam's face, the look on everyone's was just too much.  They were judging him and even though his friends were around, he never felt more alone. 


	4. It's a Cinematic Masterpiece and You're My Bestfriend

When Scott and Stiles were little, they only pulled two Round Robins.  The first was when Stiles' mom died.  The second was when Scott's dad left.  Scott told his mom he was staying over Stiles' house and Stiles did the same with his father.  Then, they both booked it to the bleachers of the high school.  It was always colder at night but somehow it was refreshing to feel the cool breeze and see their breath is they struggled to collect it. 

They would sit and talk.  Then, maybe an hour or two of silence.  Then one of them cried and the other never said anything.  Words were only good for so long.  They might not have known it then, but there was something significant in willingly having someone's tears splattered on you.  It brings you closer in a way that simply talking about your life could never do.  The bleachers, the tears, the air, they all meant so much more to Scott now.

Now, as Scott sat, it all seemed like it happened to someone else.

 

He cried.  It wasn't the first time he cried over Stiles' death but it was the first time it really hit him that he was gone.  All of their memories were just that, memories.  They were moments etched in stone, decided and moved on.  He couldn't make things right if they had gone wrong or rectify any situation by planning on being better.  He wasn't going to have the opportunity to make more memories, find more pockets and parts of their relationship. He wasn't going to be able to love Stiles like he had dreamed of and the ghost of him wandering around just became a terrible reminder for Scott.  He didn't want it anymore.  He wanted Stiles, the real Stiles, or not at all.

 

Scott figured whatever was connecting them worked when he was thinking about Stiles, since he appeared, walking across the bleachers as soon as his thoughts were taking shape.  It was the first time Scott noticed he had been wearing the same thing for days.  The same look, the same Stiles.  The same  _memory of Stiles._

 

Stiles was pushing a half smile across his face, like he knew what Scott was thinking.  He sat down and they decided not to look each other.  They simply watched the lacrosse team take the field.  It was then that Scott realized how long he had been sitting out there.  School was over, but he hadn't made it through like he planned.

 

"I think Liam told coach something.  Like you were sick or still ya know, mourning."  

Scott just let out an agreeable grunt.  He wondered how scratchy his voice had become with crying so much.

 

"I got it, by the way.  I figured out why I'm still here."

Scott glanced over but tried not looking at Stiles for too long.  It was much more painful now.  But listening to his voice?  It was somehow soothing, like a lullaby or a rain storm.  He decided to drown in it.

 

"I think I found out when you yelled.  Nice roar by the way.  It jogged my memory seeing everyone around you react.  Lydia was afraid.  The people in the hall freaked.  But Liam?  Scott, Liam could see past what everyone else could see and he still had that same worried face.  Worried about  _you._  I'm...I'm dead Scott.  I'm not coming back.   And I won't get to hold your hand or kiss you or beat your ass in video games.  I won't force you to watch Star Wars even though you should because it's a cinematic masterpiece and you're best friend so you should trust me on that.  I won't be able to always make you laugh and I can't help you through the dark times.  But God, the gods, whoever, let me stay to show you something that could make up for all that."

"Stiles I-"

"Scott, look at Liam."

"I'm literally looking at the team."

"No.   _Look at him."_

Scott looked over and focused on Liam.  He focused on his eyes and his hair and his mouth.  He saw his focus on the field and his smile when people supported his decisions.  Scott saw Liam leading and following and making sure everyone was ok.  He was always making sure he was ok.  And when trouble brewed, Scott was making sure Liam was ok.

 

"Scott, he's yours.  I see the way he looks at you.  Like you're the universe.  He looks at you like if he blinked for one second, he'd miss too much.  And you look at him like you'd burn down the world if someone touched a hair on his head.  You could see all of that and not be some weird, superpowered ghost.  But, being one, I know a little more."

 

Scott looked over at Stiles.  Stiles, who was his everything for over a decade.  Stiles, who always held Scott's heart so no matter what, he'd be ok.  Stiles who was sitting, when ghosts weren't supposed to, probably because even after life he bent the rules.  Stiles who was saying his goodbyes.  

 

"You changed him, you transformed Liam because you were meant to.  What I was trying to tell you, the reason why I'm here is to let you know that Liam was a gift to you.  He's here to love you, fight with you, die  _with you._ He won't leave you behind or run away.  You'll fight and be bros and want to kill each other.  But you'll always be together.  For your service, for your fight in this war between powers, that is their and  _my_ gift to you."

 

Scott stopped looking at his friend.  He didn't say goodbye or I love you.  He didn't watch him turn into dust or fade away or walk into the light.  There was no reason to.  He just heard the last notes of Stiles' beautiful lullaby.

"You two better watch Star Wars."

 

Liam walked over during a break in the game.  He was tired and sweating but was doing his best to look fine.  He was trying his best to focus all his attention on Scott.

 

"How long you been sitting by yourself?" Liam said.  Scott looked over at the empty spot next to him.

"Not that long at all."  Scott motioned for Liam to come over and sit.  They sat together, almost a mirror image of hours ago.  Except they were looking at each other.  Scott was staring right at this boy who hadn't been there all along, but was certainly meant to and he smiled.

 

"What's up? You're acting weird."

Scott laughed.  "Nothing it's just...you have beautiful eyes.  And I've never said that before but you do."

Liam blushed.  He was stammering and confused but the easiest thing to read on his face was joy.  "Where's this coming from?"

"From me.  From Stiles.  He showed me what I wasn't seeing and what I need to see.  And um, he opened my eyes."

 

Liam looked confused, but accepted it.  Scott's smile made him smile too.

 

"Was Stiles your first love?"  Liam sure was a lot more blunt than Scott was used to.  But he had this idea instilled in him that couldn't go away.  

"No he wasn't.  I'd say he pulled in at second place.  But I think first loves and second or whatever mean they've taught you something."

"What did Stiles teach you?"

 

Scott remembered when he saw Stiles after his funeral.  He was so focused on him and where he had been and why he was there.  Then Stiles told him Liam was in danger.  And his mind completely shifted.  There was reason behind that, reasons he had a chance to explore.  He didn't want to waist. it.

 

"He taught me to be honest," he said.  "And what our first date is gonna be."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for joining on this little experiment of happy Sciam and Sciles feels!

**Author's Note:**

> Please be Kind


End file.
